


Never... But Maybe

by Dazzledfirestar



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Aliens Make Them Do It, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, M/M, hints of S&M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 05:13:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/630814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dazzledfirestar/pseuds/Dazzledfirestar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick vows to never, ever, ever again go on an off world diplomatic mission. Ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never... But Maybe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heeroluva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/gifts).



> Originally written for the five acts meme on LJ but... well, it got away on me and got big and... well... here we are ages too late for the meme itself. Oh well. Hope you all like it anyway.

_No. More. Off-world. Diplomatic. Missions_. It was the last clear thought through his head before the room filled with whatever the fuck it was that they'd used to knock them out. It could have been worse, he mused as he waited for his head to clear. He could have been in that 'dinner' with Stark. Or Barton. Or Banner. For a second he let himself wonder how the Hulk would have taken to alien knock-out gas.

 

"Jesus... did you get the plate off that truck." He heard the groan and a crack that was decidedly more 'slept funny' than 'got the shit beat out of me'.

 

Nick glanced over at his one good eye and shook his head. He wouldn't draw attention to the fact that the aliens had seen fit to take their suits and damn near everything else while they were out. "Just like Laos all over again."

 

"They didn't give us a big comfortable bed in Laos." Phil chuckled a little and took in the cell, though that seemed like the wrong word to use. There was nothing jail like about the room. The light was soft, the room was warm. And, as Coulson had already pointed out, they had a bed. Just one but it was big enough that they'd both slept comfortably without touching. "We're not sleeping on a grated floor; I'd call it a win so far."

 

"Little early for that, isn't it?"

 

"Of course it is. I'm trying to be optimistic."

 

"Well, stop. It's freaking me out." Nick half smirked at his friend for a second before the distinct hiss of something being pumped into the room through the ventilation system caught both of their attentions and put them both on high alert. "Did they leave you anything?"

 

"Nothing. You?"

 

Nick's frown got considerably more pronounced. "Just the patch."

 

"How nice of them to preserve your modesty."

 

"Phil--"

 

"Blanket's useless... weave's too open."

 

"If they wanted us out again, we'd be out by now."

 

He heard the long breath out. “So what’s—“

 

The catch in his friend’s throat was sign number one that something other than getting gassed out again as going on. “Coulson?” Phil shook his head and moved a few inches away from him. “Phil?”

 

“I’m…. its fine. Just…. It’s fine. I’m fine, Nick…”

 

“Yeah, you’re doing a great job of convincing me of that. What—“ That’s when it hit him. A sudden rush… a pull. “Jesus…”

  
“Yeah. Just like being 16 all over again.” Phil groaned and curled up around himself a little. “You don’t think they want us to—“

 

“If I could come up with another reason, I’d humor you on this.” Nick resisted the urge to take a deep breath. He was pretty sure that wouldn’t help. He let his head fall back against the not-nearly-nice-enough-to-excuse-this pillows and groaned.

 

There was a soft beep before a heavily accented voice came through an unseen speaker. Nick couldn’t decide if the alien’s accented English sounded like a bad impression of a Cold War Bond villain mixed with something distinctly Fargo-related, or if it was something else completely. “This will go smoother for everyone if you cooperate. We could have you back on your planet by tomorrow.”

 

“Our tomorrow or yours?” Nick resisted the urge to look at Phil but appreciated that he at least remembered that the alien’s calendar was far longer than Earth’s.

 

“Your own. If you cooperate. You will be provided with any essentials and your safety is guaranteed. We have no intention to harm you. Only observe.”

  
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  
“We understand that your species would not consider you a breeding pair given your similarities and age but…” The alien—Nick thought he remembered a name with a bloop noise involved—seemed to be resigning to the idea that they didn’t get exactly what they wanted. “We also understand that breeding is not the primary function of this act with humans at this point in your evolution.” The speech went on and on and Nick felt his resolve start to crack a little.

 

“We can hold out, right?” Phil’s voice didn’t waver, didn’t shake but Nick knew that meant very little. They’d been in enough tough situations before for him to know when Phil was nervous. “They can’t hold us that long. SWORD will get involved as soon as—“

 

“Think you can last through the negotiations?” Nick did his best not to grit his teeth.

 

To his credit, Phil thought about it. He really thought about it.

 

Before he could answer the alien cut in again. “If you do not cooperate, we will increase the dose you are receiving until you are unable to resist, and likely will not have the mental capacity to consider each other’s safety.”

 

“Fuck…” Nick brought a hand up, scrubbing it over his face.

 

“That’s apparently the idea.” Phil sighed. He hadn’t done that on any of the other fucked up, no win missions they’d had over the years. “So, what do we do, Boss?”

 

Nick rolled and looked at the man lying next to him. A man he considered to be one of his best friends, his right hand, and his one good eye. “I don’t want to lose any more control over this situation than we already have.” He left the ‘I don’t want to hurt you’ off. He figured that if he wanted to, Phil would pick it up.

 

Phil laughed. It was too high and too tight to relieve any of the tension. “You’re buying me dinner when we get back.”

 

“You got it.” Nick tried to smile a little before reaching over and pull Phil into an awkward kiss. It got easier as they went and the distance between them shrunk but the tension was still there and not doing either of them any favors. “Phil….”

 

“Let’s just get this over with.” Phil grabbed the back of Nick’s head and kissed him—really kissed him, since apparently up until that moment he’d been holding back—pressing as close as he could.

 

Nick nearly gasped when they split apart again but he really did smile that time. “Sweet talker.”

 

“Yeah, I’m a charmer.” The only fault Nick found in the sudden bravado was the blush on Phil’s cheeks. “So how…?”

 

“Don’t know…” Apparently the aliens had decided they’d had enough time to figure things out and upped the dose with another soft hiss from the vents. They both moaned low in their throats and looked at each other. “Oh what the hell…” Nick pulled Phil as close as he could get, letting his hands wander, pressing kisses and bites to his throat, noting every time he got a gasp or a bitten back moan.

 

He assumed they had an audience, but did his best to put it out of his mind. It was easier than he thought it would be and he was sure that was whatever they were pumping into the room talking. As his hand wrapped around Phil’s cock, he stopped caring and by the way he arched up into the touch, Phil wasn’t far behind him. “Fuck… Nick…”

  
“I know.” He kissed him again, stroking slowly. Both their heads still shot up at the soft whir by the nearest wall, which he took as a good sign. If one of the observers came in, they’d still be with it enough to get out. Not that there were a whole lot of options on where to go, but still…

 

He followed Phil’s line of sight to the spot the whir had come from. On a small platter were two bottles. “I can take a guess at at least one of them…”

 

Nick had a hand on Phil’s hip before he realized he was moving. “You up for that?”

 

Phil swallowed thickly. His eyes drifted down Nick’s body and he licked his lips. Nick was pretty sure he knew the answer. He would have preferred to know it was coming from Phil and not the sex-fog but if that’s how it had to be, so be it. “I… yeah. Yeah, what the hell. In for a penny, right?”

 

Nick’s hand crept slowly across his ass, pressing another kiss to his lips before teasing him, just a little. Phil shivered and groaned, reaching for one of the bottles. “You keep stalling and this isn’t going to go smoothly.” His hand closed over the bottle and he practically threw it at Nick.

 

He tested it first, quickly. It was exactly what they needed and he hoped in the back of his mind there wasn’t something far more dangerous than lube in there. As he unceremoniously slid a finger into Phil, he was finding it harder to concentrate on all the reasons they should fight this. The way his friend arched up and cursed breathlessly wasn’t helping.

 

“Fuck…” Phil’s eyes squeezed shut and Nick found himself fascinated by the way his throat moved as he gasped and swallowed. “More!”

 

Nick didn’t argue; wasn’t sure he could have if he wanted to. He nudged a second finger in and Phil cried out, breath coming is short pants. But his hips moved, taking Nick’s fingers deeper. He crooked his fingers and nearly moaned when Phil’s breath hitched. “Jesus…” He couldn’t stop himself from leaning in and kissing him as deeply as he could.

 

“More…”

 

“Phil…”

 

“Fuck, Nick… please!” He gritted the words out, lifting his hips and fucking himself on Nick’s fingers. “Just fuck me already!”

 

He moved before his brain had completely processed the demand; his body absolutely intent on doing exactly what Phil wanted him to—no, no. It was what the alien gas wanted Phil to want him to do. He shook it off with far too much ease and slicked himself up, pressing into his friend until the head of his cock disappeared inside him. The string of curses that left Phil, even as he arched up into Nick and held tight to his arms was impressive. It left Nick clinging to his control again. “I won’t hurt you… _fuck_ … I promise…”

 

“I kinda want you to.”

 

“It’s the drugs.”

 

“I don’t know… _fuck_!” Phil arched up again, reaching down between them to stroke his own cock. “That all you got?” He let out a breathless laugh and rolled his hips up, trying to take more.

 

Nick felt himself shiver and he put a hand on Phil’s hip, holding him in place. “Just… give yourself a second.”

 

“Nick…”

 

“I said I wasn’t going to hurt you. I’m not going to.” The words came out through gritted teeth. Every instinct was telling him to give in; to stop holding back. His hands fisted in the bedding. “Phil…”

 

“Do it.” Phil’s eyes locked on his and Nick leaned in, kissing him deeply as he thrust into him to the hilt, swallowing the groan that escaped him.

 

He had a hard time after that putting the pieces of the actual act together. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the gas or not but there were bits that stood out against the blurred background. The strings of curses that left them both as the pace steadily picked up. Phil’s fingers digging into his biceps, his shoulders, raking down his back. His name leaving Phil’s lips a moment before he cried out and bucked up against Nick, coming hard all over their stomachs.

 

“Don’t stop. God, Nick…. Keep fucking me… please!”

 

The please did it. Even if he could find the control to stop himself at that point, that please would have kept him going. Every over sensitive moan and whimper out of Phil drove him on but that please was going to end things fast. “Phil… _fuck_!” Nick’s hands fisted in the bedding and he dropped his head, catching his friend’s lips in a deep and desperate kiss as he came.

 

The kiss seemed to mellow and linger as he came back to himself. Nick found himself leaning down and kissing Phil again, and again. “You okay?”

 

His friend nodded; a wry smile crossed his face and he stretched a little. “Yeah… yeah, I’m good, I think.” The chuckle he let out made Nick smile was cut short as Nick pulled out of him and a soft hiss left his lips. “Sticky, but good.”

 

Before Nick could come up with an appropriate quip, the hidden speakers jumped to life again. “Thank you for your cooperation, gentlemen. The data we’ve collect was very informative. We appreciate your efforts. If you wish to clean yourselves--" a whirl sounded behind them and they both turned. The whir seemed to be the wall moving to reveal a shower, towels and what Nick was willing to bet was soap. “Everything you need is there. Your clothing will be cleaned and returned to you before your emissaries arrive.”

 

The speakers went dead again. Nick figured their audience was probably off going over their notes or something. “Go ahead. I can wait…” He waved a hand toward the shower.

 

Phil stared at him for a minute. “…okay. I figured… well.” Nick suddenly felt like he’d taken a wrong step somewhere in the last few seconds. “I’ll save you some hot water.”

 

Phil was already under the spray by the time Nick clued in. He moved into the shower slowly. “Phil…”

 

“It’s okay. Do what you have to do, right?”

 

“No.” Nick wrapped his arms around his friend’s waist. “No, that wasn’t a rejection…”

 

“That stuff’s still in our system. Saying anything else right now will only make it worse when we get back.” It was a completely logical argument. The illogical part was how Phil was leaning back into him as he said it; how he rolled his hips back against Nick and tilted his head when Nick’s lips touched his throat. “Fuck…”

 

Before he was clearly thinking again, Nick’s hand wandered down to Phil’s hip. “How much longer do you think we’ve got?”

 

“Not long enough.” He let out a dry laugh and groaned as Nick pulled him closer. “This isn’t going to help…”

 

“You said we’re still drugged. It was worse not touching you.” Nick spoke against his skin before he let out a sigh. “Let’s just… get cleaned up. We’ll figure the rest out when we get back.”

 

Phil nodded but didn’t say anything else. Nick figured it was best to follow his lead and kept silent as they got clean, dry and dressed; their clothes coming through the same little slot in the wall that delivered the bottles of lube earlier. By the time he’d thought up a way or two to break the silence, a door was opening and a SWORD team was hustling them out into a shuttle and back to Earth.

 

He spent half a day yelling at Brandt and telling her exactly what he thought of her solid intelligence on the species in question. She did mention that the reports they’d gotten had been from other races that were more puritanical—her word, not his—than humans and would not have mentioned it anyway if anything like this happened.

 

The details of the experience were white tabbed—the files did not exist as far as anyone other than Nick and Phil were concerned—but Brandt was cleared to warn any interested parties at to what this races intentions might be. So things went back to as normal as they ever got.

 

Sometime between AIM covering half of Connecticut in slime and a time displaced HYDRA strike team appearing in Central Park, Nick managed to put a plan in action.

 

“Agent Coulson?” Phil looked up from the rather extensive pile of paperwork related to the Avengers most recent outing. A junior agent was shifting uncomfortably in the doorway. “Sir, Director Fury is requesting that you take a meeting, sir…”

 

“Tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

 

“There’s a car waiting for you, sir.”

 

That caught his full attention. “What?”

 

“There’s a car waiting to take you to another location, Sir. That’s honestly all I know.”

 

Phil frowned. Of course that was all the kid knew. “Alright. Five minutes.” He waved the agent out of his office, finished up form 548-B and locked up before heading down to the front doors. True to the agent’s word, there was a car waiting for him.

 

Questioning the driver proved useless as well and it wasn’t until the car stopped in front of a small Italian restaurant—one of Phil’s favorites, actually—that he had any clue what was going on. “The director is inside, sir.” That was all the driver had to say.

 

Phil got out of the car and went into the nearly empty restaurant. That in and of itself was strange. It was a Friday night. There shouldn’t have been a table to be found but the hostess smiled and showed him to a table for two with a bottle of wine chilling beside it and his friend sitting across from him. “What is this?”

 

Nick smiled and poured a glass of wine for each of them. “I said I’d buy you dinner. That’s what this is.”

 

Phil took a sip of the wine—another favorite. Nick was really going all out—and sighed. “Or this was the easier way to get me away from the office so we could talk.”

 

“That too.” Nick put his glass down. “But what do you say to just enjoying the meal first? Like I said, I owe you a dinner.”

 

Phil couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face. It was true, there was a lot to talk about but this was his favorite restaurant. They did make a mean lobster fettuccini… “I’m getting the lobster.”

 

“I’d say you earned it.” Nick’s smirk matched his own and Phil laughed.

 

Maybe… Phil took another sip of his wine to hide the real smile that started to take the smirk’s place. Maybe this could work after all. Maybe their friendship would survive this. Maybe… he dared to think it for a second; maybe they could stop ignoring and deflecting and dancing around everything and become something else. Maybe he’d owe those aliens a thank you.

 

Phil was willing to bet the last one wasn’t going to happen, but the rest… As he put his glass down and smiled across the table, the chances on the rest of those maybes seemed pretty good.


End file.
